


Surprisistair and the Cheese King Button

by Replica_Jester



Category: Dragon Age Origins
Genre: Birthday, Cheese, Cheese King, Dream Sex, Dreams, F/M, Multiple Crossovers, NSFW toward end, surprise, sweet dreams are made of Cheese who am i to diss a brie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5134892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Replica_Jester/pseuds/Replica_Jester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally intended for The Alistair Telephone game on tumblr  at http://alistairtelephonegame.tumblr.com/  but it became too fun and too long. Even shortening it, I can't fit it under the 2,000 word mark. Total it came out to about 18 pages and 7, 697 words!<br/>But I REALLY enjoyed this! The idea for a Cheese King Button came from a friend talking about hitting the "follow" button on Tumbler and mentioning our fave Cheese King.  Dyslexia turned the two into one.  I have no regrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprisistair and the Cheese King Button

“Alistair! Wake up!”

Alistair groaned and pulled the blanket up over his face. “Unless it's my birthday and you've turned my castle into cheese, then go away!” Something heavy thudded onto the bed, sending a ripple through the new spring mattress his wife had had made for him.

“It _is_ your birthday!” The body crawled right over him and didn't move. When she didn't speak again, he peeked over the top of the blanket. The Queen of Fereldan wore the most impish smile he had ever seen in his life. “Get up!”

“With a smile like that, I'm scared to.”

She giggled. “I found something!”

“A _what_ -something?”

“I was out in the garden for my morning stroll, and I found this little magic man -”

He groaned. “Oghren. Great. We'll be out of ale by lunch. Call the servants! Quick! Tell them to hide it all!” He covered his face again.

She giggled again. “Nope! Not Oghren.”

He tried to figure out who she meant. “Then that strange old-cat-lady mage guy you found in Amaranthine.”

“Nope! Not Anders, either! But that's not important. Look what he gave me!” she held up a...thing. A red thing. It looked like half of a toy ball, but it was flat where it had been cut in half. It read _Cheese King_ on it in large white letters.

“What is is? A year-old cake?”

She looked it it curiously. “I don't think so. The little man told me it was a button.”

“A Cheese King button.” He frowned. “Do you tell _everyone_ I love cheese?”

She laughed and bounced off of him. “Get up! He said we have say what sort of cheese we want when we push it, and then it'll transport us there! By magic!”

“May I remind you that I am a King, crazy woman, and it happens to be my birthday!” He hesitated, staring at the button. “ _Any_ sort of cheese we want?”

She grinned devilishly again, nodding.

“Even that soft pepper cheese that we can't find again? That spicy one with the apples bits?”

“We could find out…?” she held the button flat in her hand with an almost naughty lift of one brow.

“And when it doesn't work?” he mused.

“Then we just stay here and forget about it, and your incredibly sexy Warden-Commander-Wife-Queen -”

“That's a lot of titles,” he teased with a smirk of his own.

“Do you want to hear the rest of Plan B or not?”

He laughed, groggy from sleep. “Only if you demonstrate it.”

“I may have to. My royal husband apparently has forgotten all other formalities.” She leaned over to kiss him. He groaned into the passion of her lips. “You know what I think?” she grazed her tongue against his top lip.

“What do you think?”

“I think we should go somewhere that makes a new cheese that we've never even heard of before,” she murmured, and her shoulder jerked when she brought her fist down on the Cheese King button.

Something invisible slapped around Alistair and Elissa like chains, and somebody screeched in a very feminine voice as they were spiraled over and over through some sort of tunnel.

The wind knocked out of them as they slammed into something cold and hard. “Ouch!” Alistair groaned. He stood, but that was a huge mistake. The entire room was spinning around him. “Lis?” He had no control over where his body swayed to. He felt like those little golem dolls with springs at the feet, the kind that can strap on to the front a wagon where they can wiggle and dance over the bumpy Fereldan roads.

“I...think it worked...” she trailed off.

Alistair reached out and leaned on something furry. He squinched his eyes and shook his head roughly. He groaned again as his eyes stopped spinning. “What...what happened? Where are we?” They were on some sort of campsite. A gigantic fire blazed nearby, completely redefining the word _bonfire_ for him. The rocks of the land were painted with funny blue symbols, lots of spirals and dots, and all blue. A tower stood nearby.

“Not in Fereldan...” she answered. “What's in there?” she came to investigate.

Alistair looked down at what he was holding, and immediately jerked his hand away. There were three of them, huge barrels made of fur that had been stretched or something, and some sort of cream-colored stuff filled each nearly to the brim. “Eew.” He wrinkled his nose. “Wait a moment.” He sniffed, and Elissa sniffed. “Is that...cheese?” he asked.

She laughed. She laughed in awe with her mouth pursed, and she pointed to the possible-cheese stuff. “Maker, _it worked!”_ She laughed loud, triumphant. “Taste it!” she grinned like a maniac.

“ _What? No! You first!”_ Alistair declared.

“What? Why not? We asked for cheese, and we're at...stuff that looks like it might be cheese.”

“You asked for it, you taste it. If it's good, and if you don't die in a few minutes, then I'll try it.”

“I don't remember this being in our marriage contract.”

“It doesn't matter. I'm your husband till death do us part; the Revered Mother said so herself. And, I'm still your King -”

“ _Ohhh!”_ she laughed as she couldn't believe he had dared.

“Ah, more travelers,” a strange, almost Orleasian accent sounded.

“What's that?” Alistair looked around, and coming from behind him was a very furry man. Alistair startled with a noise.

“ _Husband_.” Elissa said flatly. “Get off me.”

Alistair dropped his legs from her waist. “Sorry. But _what_ _is_ that thing?!” he cried. A man? A man with a cat face. And a tail.

“Anders would very interested this... _Quick! Grab it!_ We'll take it with us!” she hissed.

“I – what?” he did a double-take at his wife. “It _spoke_. We can't just _kidnap_ it.”

“ _You_ speak, and I do far worse than kidnap to _you_ every night.”

“Lis, please. Not in front of strange hairy cat-men.”

“Here, kitty kitty! Here boy! It's okay, I won't hurt you!” Elissa was far from convincing.

“M'aiq is no fool.”

“My-eek? What's an _eek?”_ Alistair asked Elissa.

“How would I know?”

“You know everything.”

“M'aiq knows everything,” the cat-man said slyly.

“Oh, I think My-eek is its name,” Alistair said.

“M'aiq knows you are lost. M'aiq also knows you are no match for things that live here.”

“Hey! I'll have you know --- my wife happened to kill a very large demonic dragon!” Alistair retorted.

“Dragon, not Dragonborn,” the cat said.

“That makes no sense,” Alistair stated.

“Bag it up. I want to give it to Anders.”

“Bag it up with _what_?” he asked incredulously.

“No bags. Maybe for Moon Sugar, though, yes?” the cat asked.

“Is...this like old Templars begging for Dwarf Dust?” Alistair asked Elissa.

“ _Why_ do you keep thinking I _know_ about this place?!” she mimicked his skeptical tone. “Here! Taste this!” Elissa shoved her hand toward Alistair's face, and he moved his head away just in time to avoid whatever it was smeared on his mouth.

“What are you doing?” he swatted her hand away.

“Don't be such a baby! It's actually really good!”

“Ah, you are Nord, then, yes. Mammoth cheese good, very good. Khajiit like the cream. Mammoth makes rich milk, yes? Yes, very rich.”

“Mammoth cheese?” Alistair echoed.

“I really like it!” Before Alistair could defend himself, she shoved a chunk of creamy, semi-hard white cheese in his mouth.

She was right. It was really good. Very fatty, but the cream swirled around his tongue like the perfect sinful treat.

But before he could comment on it, the ground started to shake, quaking harder with every progressing moment. “What's that?” Alistair asked. His eyes caught a very huge man and a gigantic furry...dog, maybe, with long tusks and a very long snout. No, not a dog. But gigantic was definitely obvious! There were two of the gigantic men, actually….in nothing but loincloths. Loincloths that flapped as they ran in slow, long strides.

Elissa's brows raised unexpectedly high. “How big do you suppose their…. _things_ are?” she asked.

“ _Honestly_ , _why_ am I surprised that's the _first_ thing you think of when you see humongous freaky giants?” Alistair wondered.

Suddenly: _“FUS-RO-DAH!”_ a voice boomed so loud it shook the very air and ground, and the two giants were swept right off the ground. They flew through the air like huge, ugly drunk birds, one of them smacking into a tree before hitting the ground.

Alistair and Elissa stared wide-eyed at the whole scene shortly beyond them.

A person in strange black leather armor, that even completely covered the head and face – and even a fancy matching cape; Alistair made a mental note of this fashion statement – advanced low with daggers in each hand. A black horse with glowing red eyes, a ghostly-looking fellow, and a man dressed in patchwork Jester's clothes ran up to the huge furry, tusked non-dog thing and the two dazed giants. The Jester cackled every time he turned like a whirlwind with daggers.

“Do you see how they fight!” Elissa hissed excitedly. Alistair frowned at his rogue-talented wife.

“ _No_.”

“ _Alistair_!” she whined.

“ _Ooh_! What do we have here? Listener, _look!”_ Alistair and Elissa looked over to see the Jester approaching them, daggers out. _They killed the giant things that quick?!_ “ _Quickly_! Before they try to harm my poor Listener again!” the Jester flipped his daggers, and the person in the strange black armor whipped around to face them. Nothing but two small glowing dots stared at them as the person Shouted: _“WULD NAH KEST!”_ and nearly instantly closed the gap between him and the surprised couple.

Elissa and Alistair leapt into each others' arms in a tight clutch as the scary quartet sprinted toward them. Alistair wasn't sure who screamed louder.

“Hit the button!” Elissa yelled.

“I don't know how it works!” Alistair yelled back.

“Just say where you want to go and hit it!!” She screamed louder, in a higher pitch than he had ever heard her use; or maybe that was him.

“I don't know where to go! Somewhere friendly! _Yes_! Yes! Magic button, take us to a glorious distant palace with a friendly cheese-loving prince who lives far, far away from here!” He slammed his fist on the Cheese King button, and together they lurched through the forward spiral tunnel.

Alistair fought the urge to vomit. He groaned and looked around before trying to stand. “Where are we now?” he croaked. His eyes focused in, and he was actually relieved. They seemed to be in some sort of Great Hall. A palace? Did they arrive in a palace? _Thank the Maker! Finally something he could work with!_

“It's...normal...” Elissa staggered a few paces, and Alistair was right behind her.

“ _WHAT'S THIS?”_ a voice bellowed. “Haskill! Did I send for tourists when I was me?”

“No, My Lord. They seem to have come out of nowhere, and are now here.” A snappy-dresser of a man stood near a single throne in front of a large funny-looking tree.

“ _Intruders_ , then! _Splendid_! Just _absolutely_ _delightful_! What shall we do with them first, Haskill? Do you think they dance? OH! I have a better idea! _Skin_ them, _then_ make them dance!” a strange man with white hair announced from the throne. His costume was odd; one side entirely purple and gray, the other side entirely gold and red.

“I would have to advise Your Majesty _against_ skinning. We've just had the carpets done,” said the snappy dresser.

“Hang them by their feet, then. Better yet – Hang _her_ by the feet, and let _him_ control the strings!”

“Wait, wait!” Alistair stepped forward. “I'm sorry we've intruded, we didn't plan to, believe me. I'm Alistair, King of Fereldan – this is my wife. We have no idea _why_ we're here or _how_. We asked to go to a friendly place with cheese, and we pushed a magic button to get us there, but we ended up here.” He looked around. “And I _don't_ see any _cheese_. _Wonderful_.”

“ _Cheese_? Haskill! They've come to steal my cheese!” the screechy man in the oddly colored suit said.

“That's not what I said!” Alistair protested.

The odd-suited...ruler?…lowered his eyes and voice. “ _No_ , that's _right_. You said you're a _king_. Haskill! Where the blazes is Fereldan?”

“Neither the mundus nor any plane of oblivion has a _Fereldan_ my Lord. Do not let His Majesty be fooled by simple, desperate travelers. Surely you haven't forgotten the last time you were lenient with accidental travelers?”

“An excellent point! I lost my mind. Literally! I swore I had bosoms. Didn't I sprout _bosoms_ , then? I really should start investing in mirrors. I could skip, dance – just hours of watching you watch me, Haskill!”

“ _Blast and damnation!_ ” Elissa muttered. “Where in Oblivion are we? And is there cheese here or not? Because we almost just got killed by someone _screaming.”_

“Where in Oblivion indeed?” the Lord grinned, reclining in his throne.

“You are apparently a noble of some sort. May I ask your name and title?” Alistair asked.

“Why, I'm me! Don't you recognize me? I can't have changed that much, can I? Haskill! _Have_ I changed?”

“My Lord always looks his best.”

“Even when I'm me?”

Alistair exchanged a glance with Elissa.

“Especially when you're you, my Lord.”

“But what about when I was both here?”

“Push the button,” Elissa hissed to Alistair.

“Where are we going?” Alistair hissed back.

“ _Excellent_ _question_! You've _only_ just _arrived_! _Don't_ be _rude_! Have a seat! Sit on her! Sit on Haskill! Sit on the tree!” the mad...prince?…said. “Sit, or you'll never be able to sit again,” he added darkly.

Elissa shot Alistair a flat glare, lips pursed and everything. “Dear, your idea of _friendly_ needs to _change_.” They sat right where they were.

"Change? _Wonderful!_ Change is a perfect time for celebration!” the madman said. “ _Cheese for everyone!_ Wait, scratch that. Cheese for _no_ one! That can be just as much of a celebration, if you don't like cheese, true?”

“But I _do_ like cheese,” Alistair said.

“Then  _especially_ no cheese for _you!”_

“May I remind you that this is all _your_ fault!” Alistair hissed to Elissa.

“ _Just hit the button!”_ she said through her teeth.

Alistair paused, listening to the crazy lord talk about them ruining his perfectly planned chaos with all their bleak Order. What did cheese have to do with Order? And why did the carpets oppositely match the mad prince's outfit? _Maker's Breath!_ Was that a giant heart on that pedestal? And on that one! - was that _head?_ Why were there five doors in the Hall? _How in Andraste's flaming knickers was he supposed to be able to think of where to go?_

“Why are you really here?” the man man said.

“I'm actually an honest person. I was telling you the truth,” Alistair said.

“You can't really claim that. You once tried convincing me you were raised by a pack of wild Andrastian dogs,” Elissa said.

“I was _drunk_.”

The crazy man laughed. “Raised by dogs and still now denying it! You sound like the perfect resident for Mania!”

“Hm, yes, that's all lovely. Do you have a name, oh royal lord who doesn't actually seem to have any cheese at all?” Elissa asked.

“Why don't you try guessing!”

“You're...a madman?” she guessed.

“Jolly good guess! But only half right. I'm a mad god. _The_ Mad God, actually. It's a family title. Gets passed down from me to myself every few thousand years."

“A...what's a Mad God? You mean like the Maker?”

“ _What_ Maker? The Maker of _Cheese_? Haskill, do we _have_ one of those here?”

“I believe he's down in the markets, my Lord.”

“I am doomed to die with impossible men.” Elissa said. “A _name_ , Mad God. Surely Gods even have names. Otherwise, how would you call each other out at parties?”

The Mad God laughed. “How indeed? But _you_ already _know_ that answer, don't you, little mortal? I am a _part_ of you. I am a _shadow_ of your subconscious, a _blemish_ on your fragile little psyche. You _know_ me. You just don't remember it.” He walked over to them, and Alistair scoffed when Elissa accepted the crazy man's purple-gloved hand. That sort of _psyche_ talk of _subconscious_ and _mortal shadows_ was exactly the sort of stuff she hoarded in the library at home. “Now _you_. _You_ can call me Ann Marie. But _only_ if you're partial to being flayed alive and having an angry immortal skip rope with your entrails. If not... Then call me Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness.”

“Charmed,” Elissa said. Alistair couldn't believe she was falling for it.

“You should be! I'm quite popular at parties! Or maybe I'm not. Occasionally I hear I'm quite boring. But then I'm not! I can't seem to make up my mind! Oh, how I hate indecision!... or _maybe_ I _don't_. Maybe I just need a _change_ of mind? Care to _donate_?”

“I'll trade you a wheel of your best cheese for half my brain?” Elissa bartered.

“What?! No! _Elissa_!” Alistair stood quickly.

Sheogorath laughed. “You know, _you_ remind me of _myself_ at a young age. Successfully lacking good judgment, the embodiment of change, and oh, how I _love_ to eat! One of my favorite things to do. Except when it's not. But sometimes I just like to talk! But that's not what I like right now. Go talk to [Haskill](http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Haskill), he's got more brains than a brain pie! _Ooh_...brain pie... perfect!"

Elissa actually smiled. At the suspicious crazy man. _Maker's breath! My own wife!_ Alistair's eyes narrowed at the crazy Prince of Madness who didn't even have any cheese.

“Your cheese-filled thoughts of jealousy are interrupting me!” Sheogorath snapped at Alistair.”No one interrupts me! Only I interrupt me! Like just then!” he said cheerfully.

Elissa leaned toward Alistair a little and pointed to Sheogorath with a wide gesture of one finger. “I want, like, _ten_ of these!” she said softly.

“Absolutely not!” Alistair grabbed Elissa's arm. “I want to get away from all these crazy people, I want to – go out in outer space where it's safe and I can eat cheese without all this cheese-less madness!” Alistair slapped the button on his thigh, and they lurched into another spiraling tunnel.

Alistair and Elissa lost balance against a wall. A woman's voice laughed. “Looks like someone's had too much party.”

Elissa leaned on Alistair to stand, and in returned he grabbed her arm and braced the wall to steady himself. There was woman smiling at the two of them like they were silly. And she was in an...extremely Orleasian-style dress, black and shiny. Very low cut, revealing the pinch of cleavage, displaying a great deal of her legs, and muscular arms, back to hairless legs...

Elissa slapped her hand over Alistair's eyes. “Ow!” he said. She kept an iron grip to block his sight.

He heard the woman laugh. “I don't think we've met. You must be Grunt's friends. He always brings home the strangest pets...”

“Pets?” Elissa echoed.

The woman chuckled. “I'm Shepard -”

“You're a... _shepherd?_ In your... _unmentionables_?” Elissa asked in doubt. She finally let Alistair pry her hand off. The lady laughed at them.

“First time on the Citadel, huh?” the Shepard lady said. “Commander Shepard, as it is.” The lady clearly expected them to react differently than they did, because she awkwardly lost her smile.

Alistair wasn't sure of this place at all. Three people were sitting on...extremely long chairs. Almost like pews, but huge, and plush-like as if they'd been stuffed with pillows. A normal-looking woman with dark hair sat on one of the puffy pews, but next to her sat what looked like a woman made out of armor. _But that's just preposterous!_ Must be an enchanted suit of armor, he accepted as the only logic...except it was talking...its mouth moved and everything. A woman..?…with strange-shaped legs and... _Maker!..._ only three fingers on each hand!...spoke in a very, very strange language. Sounded nothing like Tevene or Qunlat, and not even close to Elvish.

“Tali, please stop helping!” the normal human woman complained.

The Shepard lady in the shiny black dress that clung to every curve, only to suddenly cut off and give way to shiny, hairless legs….Alistair whipped his gaze away from the vixen-dressed woman as she sat next to the weird-legged woman. “What's wrong you two?”

The woman made of enchanted armor crossed her legs. _Could armor_ do _that?_ “I am asking Specialist Traynor about why she found my voice sexually attractive.”

Alistair froze, and he and Elissa exchanged a glance. She wasn't nearly as surprised as he was, rather she seemed to be silently daring him. He knew exactly what, too. She was waiting to see if he would stare at the half-naked woman with hairless legs. Alistair was honestly afraid of his wife right now.

The strange-legged/handed woman said something in her unknown language, and Alistair's eyes caught glance of where the three-fingered hand reached.

 _Cheese!_ At least, it looked like cheese. Little squares of whites and rich yellows, some dotted with what looked like herbs. He turned to his wife. _“It's cheese!”_ he hissed.

The woman he wasn't supposed to look at shot them a glance, and Alistair quickly moved his gaze.

“On one occasion,” the enchanted suit armor-woman said, “you said that you wanted to, quote, pin my voice against the wall and run your tongue along its collarbone.”

Elissa completely froze next to Alistair, and he groaned silently inside. His wife also had an affinity for naughty talk. She loved to hear him tell her what he wanted to do her each time they entered into intimacy. She was probably loving every second of this risque conversation.

The normal woman hesitated nervously. “Well, there's a context there that...you were talking about quantum entanglement, and...I didn't know you were an AI!”

The funny-legged woman said something odd again, and the woman Alistair was trying hard to avoid looking at gave a little laugh and leaned back into the large puffy pew next to the funny-legged lady.

“Anyway,” the nervous normal woman said, “I was joking! You know, stress of the retrofits, and...”

“Really?” the enchanted-armor woman asked. “My diagnostics suggested that you were genuinely aroused.”

 _Oh, dear Maker, have mercy!_ This talk was doing nothing for his nerves! The only time Alistair ever heard talk like this was when he was naked in bed. And _Maker help him!_ He was only in his pajamas! He tugged on Elissa's arm. “Darling, we need to... _go. Now._ ”

“Do you guys remember the way out?” the woman he'd be in serous trouble for looking at asked.

“I...” he gave a nervous laugh. “We've got it covered, thanks.”

“Of course you do.” From the corner of his eye, he saw the woman smirk. She stood. “This way, kids.” She put a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them.

“Where does your, er, intimate attire hail from?” Elissa asked the woman.

The Shepard laughed. “The colonies must still dress like pilgrims in some places. This is just a good old common party dress.”

“So it's Orleasian then?”

“I don't know about anything Orleasian, but if it satisfies your curiosity, then yes,” the Shepard said. A giant walking bug-man suddenly appeared from a door-less entry. Alistair startled loudly. The Shepard laughed loudly. “Don't be alarmed! That's just Javik. He's a Prothean. I know, he's a rare sight,” she chuckled.

“A...Prothy- a what?” Alistair didn't realize how far back he'd jumped until Elissa reached over and pulled him over by his pajama collar.

The giant bug-man flew all four of his eyes all over Alistair and Elissa. He looked very angry. He spoke in a very angry set of words that definitely wasn't even Qunlat, not even Dwarvish. The Shepard shrugged. “Some of Grunt's friend,” she said. The Prothy bug-man said something else that sounded mildly threatening and mocking, then he yelled down.

A very familiar voice yelled from somewhere below. Alistair and Elissa looked at each other with wide eyes. The language was certainly nothing familiar, but the voice was dead-on. “Oghren?” they asked as one. The Oghren-voice sounded again, and Alistair took off toward the strange staircase. But he skidded to a stop, leaning over with his arms flailing like a flightless bird trying to fly. _Maker! What was wrong with the_ _se_ _stairs?_ They were clear, like..a drinking glass, but _steps!_ Elissa accidentally slipped, instead of stopping, and Alistair grabbed her just in time. Her feet landed two steps down, sliding Alistair down on to the first step with a wail that he swore didn't belong to him.

Husband and wife just stood there in deep breath, eyes wide as they stared down at the diabolical see-through steps beneath their feet. Alistair was afraid to let go of her, afraid they would both fall.

“ _Oookay_! Grunt, I think your friends have had a _little_ _too_ _much_ to drink!” The Shepard called out.

The Oghren-voice sounded again. A huge bulky creature with a giant tortoise-like shell on its back came stomping over to them, and Elissa fumbled for the Cheese King button in Alistair's left hand. But as the creature approached – tall, very tall, like an angry giant turtle the size of Shale, it said something. With Oghren's voice.

Elissa cried out, now. She'd spend the most time with Oghren. If the dwarf's voice coming from this unruly turtle-giant was hard for him, it was harder for her. She cursed the name of the Maker, but that apparently only angered the imposter with their drunken friend's voice. The thing reached out and grabbed both of them by the shirt, and Alistair kept a hold on Elissa while he begged the Cheese King button to take them far, far away from any manner of people where he could actually relax with cheese like he was promised for once.

Another knot at their middles yanked them forward all over again. The tunnel seemed longer this time. Alistair came-to as a gush of wind hit his face. Wind was all around him, actually. His eyes focused enough to tell him they were in the air, above the clouds, and they both screamed. Elissa's arms clutched his waist from behind, and Alistair grabbed the only thing in front of him, something thick and feathered. He came so close to nearly dropping the Cheese King button.

Elissa screamed behind him: _“_ _ALISTAIR THEIRIN!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU WISHED US ON TO TO BACK OF A GIANT FLYING THING?? YOU WISHED US ABOVE THE CLOUDS?!”_

Alistair looked at the thing beneath them, ignoring his wife's screeching. Though he was terrified of heights, something struck his memory. Feathers, and a face with a beak ahead of him. Behind the wings that pushed Elissa up into him, causing him to lean forward every time they stretched up, was a furry golden backside with a tail.

“Lis! It's a _Gryphon_! We're on a Gryphon!” he yelled in excitement. He wasn't even afraid of the height anymore. He was living his childhood dream. He'd always – _always –_ wanted to ride a gryphon! He was so ecstatic he could almost cry.

“ _I DON'T BLOODY CARE IF WE'RE ON THE CUTEST CAT OR DOG IN THEDAS! I WANT A_ DIVORCE _!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! YOU WISHED YOUR_ WIFE _ATOP THE SODDING_ CLOUDS _, ALISTAIR!!!!”_

“Maker's breath, Lis!” he rolled his eyes. “It's a _gryphon_! You even said you wanted one once!”

“I was on _land_ then!” she cried out accusingly. “As _soon_ as we land, you're a _dead_ man! I'm going to _kill_ you! I'm _going_ to _sodding_ _kill_ my _husband!_ _I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS TO ME!!”_

“Oh, Lis, stop it. You're alive. You'll forgive me soon enough. What's that?” he asked. He squinted into the distance.

“I don't blasting care _what_ it is! I just want this thing to _land_ and I want it to land _now!”_

“ _Lis! Enough!”_ he yelled over her. “Look! Do you see that? Tell me what that looks like to you.”

“I don't want to talk to you right now!”

“Are you going to let _go_ of me, _too?_ Do you realize you're about to break my ribs, squeezing so hard? And here I am. Still loving you! Despite all your ranting and your threats, I still love my terrified little wife.”

He felt her brows furrow hard against his arm. “It's a stupid castle.”

“But do see what it looks made of?”he asked. “It's got holes, almost like...cheese...” he trailed of as the gryphon brought them quickly to the castle.

“It's probably riddled with _giants_ and _swooping witches._ And it's bloody cold up here,” she grumbled.

“Lis...” he stared up in awe as the gryphon circled over a large empty balcony, “it _is_ cheese!”

“Shartan's massive ball sack!...” even she was amazed.

“I think listening to that enchanted suit of armor was a bad idea for you,” he said, as the gryphon landed with grace and precision.

“You liked it, too. The crotch of your pants stretched a little.”

“We're in a castle made of cheese.” He slid down off the gryphon.

“Yes, I know what happens when you think of _me_ and _cheese_ together.” He grinned as he lifted his wife up off the magnificent legendary bird. The gryphon stayed, curling up almost like a mabari and rested its head on the cheese floor of the balcony. Alistair held the Cheese King button in one hand and Elissa's hand in the other, he led her. He remained cautious, though. Their experiences with this Cheese King button hadn't exactly brought them into a place of safety yet.

There was absolutely no movement. No one at all. In the center of what could be the great hall there was, however, a fountain of cheese fondue.

“Are we dead?” Alistair asked.

“That would be unfortunate.”

He giggled. “I'm serious. Are we? When are _we_ ever so lucky?”

“I like to think I've been pretty lucky since we left Ostagar. I met some interesting friends, fell in love, married a wonderful man. Became Queen.”

“Oh? And all that shrill screeching on the way over here was…?” he teased, beaming at his little wife.

“Don't push your luck.”

He giggled again and leaned down to kiss the smirk off her adorable face. He pressed the underside of his wrist to the small of her back, keeping a tight grip on the Cheese King button, and he held her hand up at his shoulder. He spun her around, as if they were on a ballroom floor and not in pajamas. “It seems we are alone, my dear...”

“You and me and cheese? Absolutely alone?” a smile spread on her pretty face.

He wiggled his eyebrows, still twirling them in a dance he wasn't quite sure was real. “Is it still my birthday?”

“I believe so.”

He groaned into a deep kiss. “Good. Do you know what I want to do for my birthday?”

“Keep the gryphon and go on extraordinary adventures like in the old stories?”

He grinned wider. “After. That will come _after_ , no doubt!” he laughed. He kissed her again. “I want to paint you.”

“Darling, you don't paint. We _tried_ that, remember? You ended up stained in blue and red and black, and I had to try to convince all the nobles I don't _beat_ you. I'm _still_ trying to get blue out of the carpet.”

He giggled again. “I want to paint _you_. With _cheese_. And I want to lick it all off.” He breathed on her skin before lingering his lips on her neck. “Starting at your toes. I want to paint you in liquid cheese from head to toe, and lick my way up your body.” She made a little noise as his wrist traveled lower and pressed her hips in toward him. “I'm going to suckle every part of you until my tongue has you completely memorized.”

“And you call _me_ a minx.” She swayed a little in his arms.

“I can't be minx, love. I could never pull off bosoms the way you do,” he teased, and she giggled with her eyes crinkled up tight. He released the hand at his shoulder and reached over into the fountain. He cursed loudly when his finger met scalding pain, rather than sensual cheese.

_Right. Liquid cheese is only melted cheese. Which is hot._

Elissa giggled fiercely and brought his hand up to blow on the burn. He sheepishly met his wife's eyes. She smiled adoringly, though, and stood on her toes to kiss him. He nearly went weak in the knees when she cloaked his finger in her mouth and took her time sucking off the melted fiendish cheese.

He gave into her temptation with a moan and secured his lips to hers. He bent his knees and bucked his hips, pressing her against his groin. Her tongue spilled into his mouth and played with him, rolling around, sucking on his own tongue. When her hand slid down his front and found the bulge in his pants, his knees buckled, and he reached out for the only thing to balance on. He cursed again, withdrawing his fingers with a shake.

_Of course the fountain would be hot around boiling cheese._

Elissa looked apologetic. “Maybe we should ask for something safer,” she suggested.

He sighed. “I just want to go home and make love to my wife,” he admitted.

She hesitated with a bit of a guilty bite to her lip, and not in the seductive way.

“Oh, dear...” he sighed again.

“But...since we have it...couldn't we just play around with it?”

“That's exactly what I want to do at home. With _you.”_

“But...Alistair...”

“ _But Alistair, but Alistair.”_ He gave her a look. “Alistair's butt is a lot cuter than anything you could possibly have in mind.”

She burst out into a sweet giggle that drew her up in for a kiss. “What about a dance? Like a ballet?”

“A ballet? What, you mean with _cheese?_ ” he asked. She giggled again, nodding.

“Ballet dancers are quite flexible, I hear. We may get some very fun ideas watching them,” she tried to bribe. He held her gaze while he considered this. He supposed this may hold possible useful surprises…

“A cheese ballet?” he said.

She nodded again with a grin. “A cheese ballet!” And before he could stop her, she smashed the red button down. Once again, they went spiraling from that wrenching knot in their middles.

Everything was dark. “Lis?” he asked.

Someone from off to his right shushed him loudly. As his eyes adjusted, he could barely pick out outlines of people. The only light came from a stage some ways below. There were people on the stage, funny costumes reflecting in the row of spotlights. Alistair tried to look around beside him.. He could barely see Elissa, her face only recognizable in the dark because it was ultimately attached to the hand that gripped his arm.

“Look!” she whispered, her gaze toward the stage. He looked diagonally down again, and leaned forward a little. Those weren't dresses, nor other normal dance attire. One skirt was even a...wheel of cheese. A cheese tutu. Cheese tiara, cheese toe-shoes. Cheese corsets.

The button actually did something right for once. Exactly what Elissa had asked. They were at a Cheese Ballet. This must be Orlais; no other country could pull this off without exploding barrels and a high body-count.

“It worked!” he marveled. “It actually worked for once!” he said. Someone else shushed him, and Elissa snapped an annoying _Oy!,_ at the offender. Alistair giggled quietly.

Elissa leaned forward in her seat right next to him. “Do you see that? Maker, I want one! A cheese-tiara! _Ohhh!_ We should get one for Isolde!” she giggled deviously. Alistair snorted in attempt to stifle his laugh, and Elissa pressed her face into his shoulder to muffle her own. They ignored another sharp _S_ _hh_ _!_

The longer they sat there trying to be silent, the more restless they each became. Her fingers crawled up his back and mimicked the dance from stage on to the nape of his neck. _Dammit_. If his wife didn't know how to send shock waves straight to his loins and cover his skin in goosebumps, then he wasn't a King in pajamas at a cheese ballet.

His hand opposite her found its way to her knee, and she raised her leg over his lap. As his massaged his way under her dress, up her leg, hot breath murmured in his ear. She told him she wanted him to take her against a wall with her leg straight up. She wanted his tongue between her legs. She wanted him to hold her clit between his teeth and wiggle his tongue at her tiny crown.

 _Shit._ He was glad no one could see how keen he was in this blackness.

Her tongue grazed the conch of his hear, and his hips jerked forward in his seat. She whispered of longing for him to stretch her mouth, but he interrupted with his fingers at her hot center. _Oh, Maker!_ She was practically dripping! He tumbled his fingers between her petals, and her silhouette in the darkness around them showed her head tilting back.

This was the most erotic thing he'd ever done, feeling her up with so many people around then. Though the lights were low, their silhouettes still shadowed their bodies, and none any aware of what Alistair was doing to his wife right next to them.

He jerked his fingers up into the plush pillow inside of her, and she accidentally let out a moan. But that was more than enough to swell his cock. He pulled her in sharply, kissing her hard. He pulled back only to smash his fist up on the button with the wish of passionate sex with his wife back in their own bed, with no reason to ever leave their private quarters.

They were jerked forward again, back though the dizzying tunnels with the colors that flew by around them like rain. It certainly didn't take long for either of them to realize what was going on.

She was on top of him. _Maker's breath!_ _They were making love! The button could just throw them right into this?_ They were still dressed, his bottoms pushed down past his hips, and he was holding her dress up to her hips to see her rise and fall upon his manhood. Her blouse was unbuttoned enough to let her breasts freely bounce without restriction.

She braced herself on his chest, her womanly glove suctioning around him with every push and tug. He reached closer between her legs, and one hand moved her curls out of the way while the other found her clit; her juices were leaking out all around their point of joining. She clenched up around him while he rubbed, and a groan of pleasure broke from her mouth. She picked up speed, and as he circled her little magic nub, he watched his erection disappear into her. He watched the lips of her center hug him secure with penetration, and pull down when his hilt retreated, as if reaching for him in a beg to return.

He plucked at the tiny little head of her clitoris and her thighs twitched, causing her walls inside to press down around him. He let out a moan, not caring who might possibly be hearing his appreciation for his wife's sex. That familiar, welcoming pressure pooled in groin. _Ohhh, h_ _e w_ _as so close!_ He grabbed her hips under her dress and brought her crashing down into his hips, eliciting a breathless wail from her. He wanted to come so badly! He held her hips firmly and thrust up, and his balls clapped up against her bottom as she pushed up as far as he could inside of her. He bounced his hips, keeping her still above him high enough for him to pull out and then shove back in. He tilted her hips to reach deeper, and she lost breath and strength. Her arms trembled to hold her up. _Shit!_ _Almost there_ _!_ His balls clenched tight, and his magma swelled up shaft as he watched her melt in pleasure. _Maker, she was beautiful!_ And in this orange glow of the fire place, her hair reminded him of cheese. His wife and cheese, his two favorite things. If only he could have it forever.

He felt the pressure near his crown, and his fingers reached to clench the bed. But instead, his hand hit something hard and round. Before he could offer his seed, a sudden knot pinched his navel and lurched him forward through an other tunnel that spiraled him like a rag doll.

He landed on something soft, but firm, with a bit of a bounce. He sat with a groan. Maker, he hated that twisting, twirling, lurching ride, but right now, he was beyond irritated. _He'd been about to come! The stupid button had to take him out_ _the_ _paradise_ _of_ _his wife's_ _perfect body_ _?! What kind of sick thunder-humper created that_ _illogical_ _button anyway?! What kind of twisted sadist wouldn't let him orgasm first??_ He was frustrated with a permanent knot in his groin now. It would haunt him until he could spill himself somewhere.

He looked around. _What in the name of Andraste…?_ He was in...a box. He was in a box of made of cheese. Holey cheese, cheese curds, soft cheese still partially in the oiled coating used to cure it. Small piles of cheese were pile up in corners, almost like a fault of treasure. But where was the door? His eyes flew all around. A window? Not even a window? _Holy Maker._ This was a prison box. Made entirely of cheese.

He whirled around. Where was Elissa? No door. No window. No Elissa. No Elissa? _No!_ He panicked quickly and ran, keeping his hands on the wall made of cheese. He tripped over blocks and wheels, his bare feet squished in soft cheeses as he made rounds of the interior.

No doors, no windows. No Elissa. He made another round, back the opposite way.

No doors, no windows. No Elissa. _No! Maker, this wasn't happening!_ He crossed the room and tried to feel up and down and through the corners. Still nothing.

No doors, no windows. No Elissa.

_Round and round._

No doors, no windows. No Elissa.

_Back and forth._

No doors, no windows. No Elissa.

_Retracing every step. No inch of floor or wall went unsearched._

No Elissa…. _Dammit_! What was he going to? She'd been by his side literally every moment since Ostagar. That was nearly three years ago. Three years without leaving her side except for nature breaks. What would he do? The thought flashed around him like words in the sky written by the Maker's hand:

No Elissa.

No doors, no windows. No Elissa.

_No Elissa._

Trapped. Forever. Trapped forever in a vault of cheese. _That's not at all what he'd asked for!_ And the button! The button was nowhere to be seen!

_No! No! No! No!!_

_No Elissa. No doors, no windows. No Elissa. No doors, no windows, no Elissa. No doors, no windows, no Elissa. No doors, no windows, no Elissa._

He screamed into the yellows and oranges and whites of the cheese that now served as a prison. He just wanted this nightmare to end.

 

“What in the world are you still doing in bed?” Elissa's voice roused him. He opened his eyes to find himself back in his chambers. The burgundy drapes of his poster-bed canopy loomed above him, golden tassels just the same as he remembered. Someone had opened a window, and a cool breeze was welcomed by his face and neck. “This must be the first year you're not up before all of Denerim on your birthday.”

It had all been a dream. He sighed heavily. _Thank the Maker!_ He sat up and rubbed his face. “I had the most insane dream, Lis. Maker's breath, I thought it was never going to end.” _I am done with cheese. So done, forever._ He looked at his wife. And froze.

She was holding a platter of cheese. He could easily pick out his favorites – no, his _former_ favorites. Right now, cheese was the very last thing he wanted to see. He scurried out of bed, ignoring the shock of the morning-cold stone floor under his bare feet.

“No! No, no, no! No cheese!” he said, pointing toward the door. “You can stay, but the cheese goes! Out out out! I don't want to see cheese again for twenty years!”

“What? Alistair, are you feeling all right?” she looked at him oddly.

“Yes! I am feeling fine. Now just...this all goes. Out. Forever. All day.” He took the platter from her and opened to the door to call a servant.

There was already someone standing right outside the door, though. He shoved the platter into the person's hands without checking who it was. But he did a double-take at the outfit of whoever this was. Under open robes, this person sported...cheese. A dress made of strips of cheese, like the sort of dress an islander might wear, the strips made of all kinds of cheese. An obvious garter made of white cheese braided together fastened just above a knee upon very hairy man-legs, along with matching cheese ankle-bracelets. Alistair frowned as his eyes traveled up. _What kind of demented person dressed like this?_ The torso – definitely a man – donned nothing but a very long chain necklace, many strings between each link, each link ending in tassels of cheese. _Maker, this person was sick!_ His eyes wandered up as he dared himself to look this mad person in the eyes.

Teagan stared back with a gaping mouth.

Alistair frowned harder. He glanced back at his wife, and Elissa smiled with a hopeful shrug. “Happy birthday?” she asked unsurely. Alistair turned back to Teagan the Cheese Princess, who immediately pointed to Elissa, still speechless.

“I don't even want to know,” Alistair said, securing the lock tight as he slammed his door.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sheogorath section inspired by: http://isriana.deviantart.com/art/Cheese-For-Everyone-340302209
> 
> sex and cheese together inspired by: Boobistair by Botticella http://botticella89.tumblr.com/post/131582633347/alistairs-favorite-things-thank-you  
> AND by: http://thehogwartsjedi.tumblr.com/post/132021081676/alexielapril-im-a-slut-for-happy-ending-can-i
> 
> Cheese Ballet inspired by: http://ellearts.tumblr.com/post/129944924167/cheese-tutu


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